


Reunion

by Phoenixflames12



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 17:36:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6385846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenixflames12/pseuds/Phoenixflames12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn't know what he's expecting, but it isn't this.</p><p>Alternate Universe- Han follows a rescue group along with Rey and Chewie to Ahch-To in order to find the most crucial member to the resistance and his oldest friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time at writing Han Solo in any capacity, not least in The Force Awakens, so if I've completely misjudged him, then please feel free to shout!
> 
> Much love and enjoy x
> 
> (Oneshot)

 

_A/N:[Inspired by this tumblr post](http://nooowestayandgetcaught.tumblr.com/post/141579336052/au-han-follows-a-rescue-group-along-rey-and)_

 

Reunion

_(Star Wars ‘The Force Awakens Alternate Universe)_

‘Kid?’

 

He doesn’t know what he’s been expecting but it isn’t this.

 

It is isn’t this, because the Luke he remembers; or thinks he remembers because time and space and everything he’s done, everything he’s felt and thought over the intervening years are all in knots, are threading themselves into spiels of black ink across his brain is not this strange, silent man who seems to be carrying the weight of the world between his shoulders.

 

His eyes fall on the hand at first.

 

It’s a strange, finely worked piece of craftsmanship; the metal and circuits all running in harmony with each other, all uniquely normal to Luke and yet to him so utterly strange.

 

The last time he had felt that hand, truly felt it had been when he had slunk back to the Resistance after the demolition of the first Death Star.

 

The hand had been flesh then, the nerves taut with excitement as fingers which had throbbed with nervous energy clutched at his shirt; all arms and legs and a gangly strength that had nearly knocked him backwards as Luke had flung himself out of Leia’s arms into the embrace.

 

That strength is rougher now, the sight of the metal limb reminders of a shadow that he has not felt encroaching onto his back in years .

 

It’s a rough, hardened power that he doesn’t understand; a strength that seems to be eclipsed by a sense of alien sadness that tugs at every fibre of Luke’s being.

 

Luke was not supposed to sad.

_The Luke he knows, the Luke he first knew back in the pub at Tatooine, was a gawky teenager who was painfully unsure of himself and his place in the galaxy._

_The Luke he knew, kitted out in the uniform of an X-Wing pilot had winked at him; a silent gesture of thanks that he had not been sure had been his to recieve._

_‘I knew you’d come back! I just knew it!’_

_The Luke he knew had had a soft twinkle in eyes darkened by a weight that was his alone to bear when they had been ambushed by Ewoks on Endor and seen C3-PO attempt to remain a mortal droid, incapable of being seen as a god._

_The Luke he knew had been the frozen body on Hoth, barely conscious in the sub-zero temperatures, dangerously close to death’s door; a boy that had muttered words that only now were starting to make sense in a fevered delirium as he dragged him towards belly of the dead Taurntum._

_‘Don’t give up on me kid,’ words that had been forced through frozen lips, caught with an edge of worry that he had not wanted to admit._

_The Luke he knows had been the one whom he had folded into a thick embrace a few nights later, smiling through eyes shadowed with snatches of pain just rising to the surface._

His eyes still hold those shadows, but they are deeper now; baring truths that Han has no right to know.

 

Rapidly he blinks the memories away, feeling them clouding his eyes, making it difficult to think, forcing them back into darkness.

 

There is too much to think about now, too much to try and understand for him to be consumed by images of the past.

 

‘It is you, isn’t it?’

 

Even as he says it, he knows that it’s a stupid question, it’s a question much like the question Rey had asked him when she and the fugitive storm trooper Finn, who had turned out to be an excellent pilot; had finally reached his beloved Millennium Falcon.

 

‘ _You’re Han Solo?’_

_‘I used to be.’_

He used to be, because what is he now?

 

What is he now except a bitterly, regretful old man, clinging to the memories of the good days with Chewie, drunk on freedom’s liqueur, whilst the world continued to spin out of control around him?

 

‘I wasn’t expecting you.’

 

Translation: _‘why are you here? How did you find me?’_

He cannot answer those unspoken questions. Cannot answer them just yet, because there is too much story there, too many apologies, too many questions and too many compromises that will inevitably have to be made.

 

And then Han can see the Jedi knight that Luke had become in his absence; locked away in the frozen hell of Jabba the Hutt’s carbonite cell.

 

Can see the quiet power that flowed through every fibre of Luke’s being rising to the surface, flooding into the Tatooine blue eyes that are now becoming clouded with the grey mist of age.

 

Behind him, Chewie gives a low rumble of support and without even having to look round, Han knows that the Wookie is feeling just as lost, just as conflicted as he is in front of this aged vision of the moon-eyed boy whom they had first met in the smoky shadows of a local watering hole.

 

But they are older now, and wiser too; he hopes and he hopes that it is the weight of the intervening years that separate them.

 

It is a weight that can easily be lessened, or so he hopes.

 

‘Y’know me… couldn’t stay away.’

 

It’s a poor attempt at humour, but neither of them can find the strength to smile.

 

A sudden pause hangs between them.

 

A pause so thick that the air could be cut with Luke’s lightsaber.

 

And then finally, finally Luke speaks; his voice still holding that same, quiet authority that at the same time feels somewhat softened.

 

‘We have a lot to talk about, Han.’

 

* * *

 

_**Fin** _

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel to read and review!
> 
> Comments, suggestions, constructive criticisms etc are like chocolate to my brain!


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